


Vicarious

by Louffox



Category: Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF
Genre: F/M, Human AU, M/M, Marvel Universe, Silly, Slow Burn, Tumblr Prompt, cursing, superhero au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-20 02:16:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12422988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Louffox/pseuds/Louffox
Summary: Vicarious: performed, exercised, received, or suffered in place of another."Wait, don’t go! I just… You don’t understand, I’ve always wanted that, I’ve always wanted what you have, I’ve spent my whole life dreaming about it, and you’re just… Please, just tell me your name.”“I… I’m Virgil.”





	Vicarious

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this half baked idea on my mind for a while now, and have written down fragments as they came to me, often on my phone, often writing when I shouldn't be, trying to get this out, get this going with a bit of momentum, and as today is the birthday of the Sides, I figured I'd post the first chapter.
> 
> I'm not sure what my update schedule will be- I'm heading into my busy season at work and it won't calm until the end of February, but I'm going to write what I can, when I can, and upload as often as I'm able. Please be patient with me! And while you're waiting, come say hi on tumblr or check out my other fics!

Roman lifted his chin, enjoying the feel of the thin, cold air pulling at the hair at the nape of his neck and ghosting over his shoulders. The wind caught the long line of red behind him and gave it lift, ripple, life. The city sat below him, expectant. Waiting.

 

His city.

 

He stepped carelessly to the edge of the building and stepped further out into the air, tilting his body forward, and the air supported him. Below his chest was the ground, above his shoulders was his cape, the wind, the sky. He flew between skyscrapers and statues, looking for trouble, but all was well. That was his hard work. He had done this, taken care of everything, saved it all-

 

Something slammed into the desk near his head and he flinched upward, leaving the imagined city, falling back into the 300 person lecture hall that smelled of stale McDonalds and musty wood.

 

“This is not conducive to earning your degree,” Logan said disapprovingly, leaning on the book he’d just dropped on Roman’s desk.

 

“You’ll just let me copy your notes later. And- it’s just biochemistry. We’ve already taken biology, and taken chemistry, so this is pretty redundant.”

 

The corner of Logan’s mouth twitched. “I suppose you’re not wrong.” Roman mentally patted himself on the back- Logan had said much the same thing at the beginning of the semester, and had repeated it several times, and there was no better way to please the nerd than by parroting his own advice back at him.

 

“I’m working after I’m done classes today anyways, I needed the sleep.”

 

“It’s, what, Memphis tonight?”

 

“Right. They’ve got a really elaborate setup, from what Talyn texted me. A whole fake radio station roof and antenna. It’s quite lovely.”

 

“They could’ve used projectors and screens to just put a picture of a radio antenna up, rather than putting up all those heavy parts and doing that much construction work. It’s rather unnecessary, in my opinion. It looks dangerous to set up and take down.”

 

“Well, they needed me this evening, because I’m one of the only ones who’s harness certified and was available.”

 

“Just don’t neglect your classes. You’ll never be an Avenger if you fail out,” Logan teased.

 

“I told you that in confidence!”

 

“And I haven’t told anyone. Relax,” Logan said dismissively. “I would just sound ridiculous. And like a trashy gossip- ‘did I tell you my friend decided to try and get a massively difficult to obtain  _ biological engineering degree _ just because he thinks it could help him make himself into a superhero?’ That would just get both of us laughed at. And you accomplish getting yourself laughed at enough without needing my aid.”

 

“You’re such a loyal friend,” Roman said sarcastically.

 

They went to the food hall for lunch, and Roman managed to stay awake through calc 3, physics, and physics recitation. He headed into work after that, saying goodbye to Logan, changing into his theater blacks and joining the crew setting up the show.

 

Memphis was lovely, and Roman loved theater, plays, singing, and music- he kept his coms set muted as he hummed along with all the songs from the left wing. When the show was over, the moment the curtain closed for the last time, he headed over to the harness rack and the scissorlift. Joan was already there, harnessed up, and swinging themself into the the lift. They snapped some switches and pushed the throttle.

 

It didn’t move.

 

“Uh oh,” they mumbled, widening his eyes at Roman. He got his harness tightened and hopped up with Joan. 

 

“Is it on?”

 

“Gee, thanks Roman, I’m so silly, I just forgot to turn it on. Silly me,” Joan said, voice thick with sarcasm. They jiggled a few switches. “Is it dead? I unplugged it when I got in.”

 

“Hold on a moment, I’ll follow the cable back,” Roman said, swinging down. He followed it back to the plugs, and sure enough, it hadn’t been plugged in. He hurried back to Joan to tell them.

 

“Fuck. And we don’t have the boom lift this week, its at the State Theater. Fuck! Now what?”

 

“We’ll have to belay down from the grid,” Roman realized.

 

“Fuck! I hate that. This is probably all Graulnick’s fault, I know he was the one who used it last. Dammit. Fine. I’ll go let Scott know, you wanna grab the ropes and meet me up at the grid?”

 

“Sure. Here, put my phone in the office- I forgot to bring a cable for it.”

 

“I did too, actually, thanks for reminding me. See you up there,” Joan said, taking their phones and heading for the office. Grid rules were that you couldn’t bring anything up that wasn’t tethered to your body, or else if you dropped it, it could fall and hit someone below. They all had wrenches on strings attached to their belts, but often they would just leave their phones and any other belongings in the office, in their boss’s desk where it wouldn’t be stolen.

 

Roman gathered the ropes, clips, carabiners, and helmets they would need, and took the three sets of ladders up into the grid that held the curtains, mounted subs, battens, and currently one large and ridiculous (curse Logan for always being right) radio station roof.

 

He began tying the knots to the grid, opening the hatch, and looping the cables through carabiners and his harness. He’d only done this a handful of times, and was glad when Joan arrived- they knew more about this all than he did. They could’ve gotten the training books out, but it was a huge set, it was already 10PM, and they had to get everything broke down and back in the trucks before they would be able to go home and catch what sleep they could before the next day of classes.

 

Roman got his rig finished first, and lowered himself down to the fake roof, using it to balance but not applying his full weight. The antenna had to go first, so he and Joan set about removing bolts and loosening pieces. The entire setup was connected to several battens- long metal pipes that ran the length of the stage that were attached to motors that could raise and lower them with a control box down by the stage, but the setup had to be connected and disconnected from each other in the air, before lowering each section and batten.

 

Joan had been there in the morning when it had been put together, so he was disconnecting parts while Roman belayed up and down to bring him tools and put away parts. They got three of the five pieces disconnected and down- by then it was a bit after midnight, the stage was nearly empty with everyone else loading lights and speakers into the truck, and both Joan and Roman were exhausted.

 

“My fingers are fucking killing me,” Joan mumbled, rubbing grease into yet another stubborn bolt.

 

“My eyes hurt. And my hands. And my back. Heavens, all I can think about is the tomato rice soup I’ve got in the fridge. I just want to sit on the couch and watch Moana and eat soup.”

 

“We’re more than halfway done.”

 

“I biked in this morning. Odin’s pants, I don’t want to bike home in the cold tonight.”

 

“Shit, same, I forgot. Ugh,” Joan groaned. “Here, I’m done with this one, I won’t need it again for a while,” they said, passing Roman a heavy mallet, unclipping it from his belt and snapping it onto Roman’s own belt loop.

 

“Thanks. B-R-B,” he said, grabbing his rope cinch to raise himself back up to the grid.

 

He put the mallet in the tool bucket (also tied to the grid) and unclipped the carabiner from-

 

-he was falling.

 

The support around his torso was gone, and in an instant he was plummeting. The fall only took a few seconds, but it felt like a minute as he experienced each sensation- the sudden loss of tension around his shoulders, back, and legs, the jolt of shock in his stomach as he accelerated downward, the replying jolt in his heart as he went from sleepy to  _ oh my god I’m going to die _ in a moment, the air-  _ cold air pulling at the hair at the nape of his neck and ghosting over his shoulders- _

 

Something struck him from the side, knocking the wind from his lungs, and his direction changed from down to sideways.

 

For a moment, there was nothing but the pressure of someone’s arms around him. He blinked and focused and saw the grid above him, half the radio station roof still hanging, then looked further and saw feathery brown and purple hair, tousled in the still air, round expressive eyes the color of warm maple and of the same liquid consistency. Dark streaks of eyeshadow, high cheekbones and strong bone structure, a wide mouth with lips slightly parted with surprise, ghosting warm breaths across the small space between them to Roman’s own mouth, sharing a moment of air.

 

Backlit by a halo of stage lights, suspended a dozen feet above the floor, wearing an expression that was both open and unreadable, and holding Roman safely in his arms, was the most beautiful man he'd ever seen.

 

And then he was lying on the floor, intact, alive, gasping, running his hands over himself in disbelief of his lack of broken-ness. His side hurt a little, and his neck felt vaguely whiplashed, but he was- he wasn’t dead? He wasn’t dead.

 

“Uh. Shit. I- uh. Are you- are you okay?” The gorgeous man was talking to him. A low voice that stuttered a little with uncertainty, at odds with the strength he'd felt a moment ago before being dumped out of his arms.

 

“Man. Hey. You alright?” Roman’s dark angelic savior said again. He had to swallow several times before he could speak.

 

“I’m- yes, I’m unharmed. Did you... save me!?”

 

“No. Yes. Uh… please don’t tell anyone.” Roman’s mouth dropped open a little, confused.

 

“What?!”

 

The man rubbed the back of his neck, looking away shyly. Oh heavens, even shy, he was  _ cute _ .

 

“I uh… I caught you, yeah, so I guess I did. Please don’t- don’t, like, make a big scene or anything. I’m just a normal dude.”

 

“A normal- a  _ normal dude _ ?! You just saved my life! Did you- oh my god, you  _ flew _ -” Roman realized, the scene replaying in his mind, trying to make more sense of it. Unhooking the wrong rope, falling, certain he was going to die, arms wrapping around him, a strong body impacting his from the side, grabbing him and flying him to the darkness of the side stage, dropping him between the curtains before alighting himself, soundlessly and gracefully.

 

“Shh. Please don’t tell anyone. I’m not a hero, I’m just an english major,” the man said pleadingly. Roman pushed himself to his feet, brushing a bit of dust from himself.

 

“No, you  _ are _ a hero!” Roman exclaimed, but in a hushed voice, staying quiet as the man had asked.

 

“I’m really not, I don’t want to be, I don’t want to join the Avengers, I don’t even like New York, I just want to live a normal life,” he said quickly, putting his hands up.

 

“But you can fly!”

 

“Yeah, among other things, but really I’m just a normal guy, I swear- just a normal guy who got placed with some real great mad scientist foster parents for a few years when I was like, five. I didn’t want any of this, I just- I couldn’t let you die, and now I’m just gonna go back to being a normal guy.” He was backing away, but Roman couldn’t just let him go- he caught his arm.

 

“But you’re… that was amazing! Wait, don’t go! I just… You don’t understand, I’ve always wanted that, I’ve always wanted what you have, I’ve spent my whole life dreaming about it, and you’re just… Please, just tell me your name.”

 

“I… I’m Virgil.”

 

“Roman. Nice to meet you. Look, I promise I won’t tell anyone, but… don’t just disappear, I want to get to know you better. I- you’re incredible.” With each compliment, Virgil was blushing darker and darker red, but Roman could see in his eyes that the compliments meant a lot to him. “Let me buy you lunch sometime.”

 

“You don’t owe me lunch-,”

 

“I mean as friends. I… I think I'd like to spend more time with you. And also, how have we never met before? I thought I knew everyone who worked here,” he said with confusion.

 

“I usually work in the sound booth, with Luke. And I don’t talk to people much. I don’t really have friends. I mean- like, I don’t have many friends,” he stammered, looking embarrassed again. 

 

“I have lots of friends, and we all work here. Why don’t we all get lunch sometime? I won’t tell them either, I promise. I just… this might  sound foolish, but I’ve spent my whole life dreaming of being a hero, and we just happened to meet like this? You might not believe in fate, but I do. And I won’t let destiny get away from me- I feel like we were supposed to meet.” Roman had always been an excellent people person- he could tell Virgil wasn’t used to compliments, friends, or reassurances like this, and he might have been putting it on a little heavy, but everything he said was true.

 

“I… what?”

 

“Can- blast, my phone isn't here, hm… Can I add myself in your phone?”

 

“Uh, sure.” Virgil pulled a large phone with a splintery screen from his pocket, unlocked it and opened a new contact, and passed it to Roman.

 

He entered himself in, as Prince Roman, and fired a text to his phone so he'd have this number.

 

“Okay, then- wait, why Prince?”

 

“Because rather than saving the princess, you saved the prince,” Roman proclaimed.

 

“I just did what anyone would have done.”

 

“No, you just did what  _ nobody _ can do.”

 

“Ease up a little, would you? One lunch. No superhero talk. Just… keep it normal.”

 

“I accept your terms, but would just like to reiterate-  _ you're not normal, you can fly. _ ”

 

“Yeah, fine, whatever. Look, I gotta go back to the ramp, I want to be home before sunrise.”

 

“Agreed. I'll text you,” Roman called as Virgil ducked away, headed back out to the loading bay. Roman watched him go, strangely hyperaware of his pulse and breathing. The dark wings of the opposite side stage swallowed Virgil, and Roman finally turned away.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr under the handle thefauxfox where I mostly reblog trashy humor and wax poetic about my running addiction. Also cats. Lots of cats.
> 
> I'm an absolute sap for peer pressure and my fickle brat writing ability feeds on feedback. Leave a comment with any predictions, critique, chatter, other prompts, or just yell at me to post more and I'll try and write/update faster!


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